I’m 99.9% sure that Susan the “spiritual healer” has jinxed
me. I believe in destiny, but my
trip just keeps getting more and more bizzare
with some of the most peculiar
coincidences taking place, like today.
I left Bozeman this morning prepared for a century ride (160km) to
Montana’s state capitol, Helena. I
had been off the bike for the last two days just hanging out in Bozeman and my
legs were itching to pedal again.
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| John Faunce's garage, the best bike shop in Bozeman |
John, my host and patient mechanic, in Bozeman, had helped
me fine-tune my breaks and true my back wheel so that I was all prepared. I
wanted to pump up my tires with a real foot pump, but unfortunately his was out
of commission. I went to use mine,
which is when I noticed, that the little nozzle that attaches to the tire was
missing! That would explain the
funny noise I heard earlier in the week, I had disregarded it as a little rock
hitting the frame. Darn, I would have to get a new pump, or find a replacement
tip, but it would have to wait until Helena or Missoula. He offered to give me a gas station air
adapter, but I refused, knowing I had one in my bag of spare parts, somewhere.
I’d be fine until I made it to a bike store, after all, what were the chances
of getting a flat tire in the next 100 miles anyway?
That night, I went to bed, but I also slept really
badly. I actually haven’t been
sleeping well lately, anxiously awaiting the arrival of a few friends from
Barcelona. In the middle of the
night, I woke rather irritable in the middle of a nightmare. The bike pump must have been on the
back of my mind because I had a nightmare about a flat tire on the road and
searching high and low for a bike pump.
I was distraught and it took awhile to calm myself down. Melissa, it is only a nightmare, I thought.
A few hours later, I woke up again, this time to the sensation of wet
droplets on my face. I had been
camping in John’s backyard for the last few nights and wasn’t using my rain
fly. The nights were warm without
a cloud in the sky, perfect sleeping weather for a tent. Obviously the weather
had changed, because I it was sprinkling on my face. Thankfully, I have a freestanding tent, so I got out, picked
it up, and carried it over to the carport where his truck was parked and tucked
it under cover.
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| Stategic tent placement when the rain came |
When my alarm rang at 6am, I was far from feeling well
rested, but got up regardless, packed up my things and prepared my bags for my
route. John’s dad, who was
visiting, saw me off and I set out for Helena. I was expecting a gradual uphill but I was pleasantly
surprised to find that I was cruising continuously at a 1% downhill. Images of Barcelona infiltrated my mind
while I listened to Carlos Ruiz Zafron’s novel Angel’s Game on my ipod, helping
me forget about my nightmare and my poor night sleep. With Zafron’s imagery and Montana’s blue mountains and vast
sky in front of me, I was in heaven.
In fact, I pedaled 50 miles effortlessly without stopping. Townsend was approaching,15 miles away,
a perfect lunch stop.
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| The Montana countryside, it keeps me entrained while pedaling |
All of a sudden a few miles out of town, I noticed that my
bike starting to feel heavy. I
looked down at the tires, still full of air. Was it just my imagination? I could see a gas station less than half a mile away and the
heavy sluggish sensation was still there while I pedaled. This time when I looked down at my back
wheel, I could tell the air was getting lower and lower with each revolution.
No way! I had a flat tire! It had
been ages since I had a flat tire.
In fact, I had just made that same comment out loud to John yesterday
while talking about the bike pump, hoping I wouldn’t jinx myself! I had! My dream had foreshadowed the events,
however, I considered myself lucky because without a working bike pump, I needed
a gas station air hose. Here I was
100 ft. from a gas station, it’s like fainting right in front of an ambulance;
who does that anyway?
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| I found a comfy place to work on my bike. The double fuel tanker in the background. |
All I had to do was find my gas station adapter, change the
tube, and I’d rolling again in no time.
Besidies, I was in need of a stop anyway to eat and by the looks of the
sky ahead, a storm was about to roll through. I found a bench outside the gas station and supply store,
got comfortable, and started searching for my adapter. I searched all through my bag of tools
and parts and couldn’t find the little sucker. Where was it? I was beginning to regret not having taken
John up on his offer. There was a
truck driver filling a double fuel industrial size tank truck at the pump
across the way. I asked him for a
hardware store in town and he gave me the name. Townsend was not big enough to have a bike shop. I called the hardware store and the guy
who answered told me they sold an adapter. I decided to change my tire, get the new tube in just using
my mouth to fill it with air and then I could walk my bike down.
It was a good plan, or so I thought, until I couldn’t get
enough air into the tube to get the tire to stay on the rim. I was going to have to go down to the
store. The truck driver across the
way offered to watch my bike and another truck driver who had overheard our
conversation, also at the pump, offered to take me down. I hoped in and we went down to the
store, bought the adapter, and the same pick-up actually took me back to my
bike! The same truck driver was still there and so was my bike with the tire
waiting for air. The adapter I bought looked different than the one I had
owned, but I thought I could screw it on to the air compressor. I slowly unscrewed the valve they had
on at the gas station, when a huge powerful stream of air erupted from the
compressor making a horrible noise!
It looked like one of the hoses in a cartoon that has a mind of it’s own
spraying water, wiggling and moving in every direction possible like a snake,
only this hose had air coming out.
Luckily the same truck driver knew where the emergency stop botton was
on the compressor, pushed it. My
adapter wasn’t going to fit.
Time for plan B.
I went in search of another hardware store after asking some
locals. The truck driver whose
tanks were yet to be filled continued to watch my bike. I went to a tire store, no luck. Another gas station, rejected
again. I was turning the corner to
go to the last hardware store in town when I saw a yard full of bikes. Surely a household like this was filled
with kids and would have a bike pump, I thought. The door was open so I went in saying Hello, asking if
anyone was home? A man in a wheel
chair rolled out, I was caught off guard.
I was even more surprised to see that he didn’t have any pants on in the
chair and only a little gauze strip covering his you know what! I
tried my hardest to look only at his eyes. In fact I was actually probably
looking at the ceiling, overcompensating for the fact I didn’t want my eyes to
wander down. If I weren’t so
frantic and adamant about finding a bike pump, I probably would have stopped to
wondered what on earth had happened to this man and why was he hanging out in
his garage without pants or underwear in his wheelchair. Of course the man didn’t have a single
pump, just a collection of a half dozen of bikes outside!
Back to plan B, finding a store that had a bike pump or
adapter. I was right in front of
the town’s trading post when I saw a women get into a mini SUV. For some
reason, something told me this lady had a husband who might cycle. I had made a correct assumption. Kathy lived a few blocks down and her
husband and daughter had just gotten back for a cycling trip in Italy. I knew this meant they had road bikes,
and therefore a pump that would serve me well! BINGO! I got in
her car and we went to her house, walking straight to the garage where she
handed me a sparkling brand new bike pump.
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| How lucky was I to meet Kathy, probably one of the only road cycling families in all of Townsend |
We made it back to my bike, which was still there, although
the truck driver had lost patience with me. Just as I started to work on my tire, the skies opened up
and it began to pore! I brought all my gear into the gas station garage, while
Kathy took refuge in the car. I
didn’t want her to wait while I fixed my bike, but she insisted andused a
phrase that is becoming rather familiar. “Melissa, I was suppose to go to
Helena today, but my appointment got canceled. I had just pulled up to the hardware store when I saw
you…..I don’t really know why I was going there…..I think this was just meant
to be!” She assured me she didn’t
have anything else to do so I could take my time. But by then, I was out of energy, frazzled, and wanted to
get my tire changed once and for all!
It went smoothly until I tried to get the brakes back on and I
couldn’t. What on earth was
wrong? I had gotten them off, but
couldn’t seem to get them back in their clip.
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| My bike stayed dry in the supply shop garage |
I asked a strong looking man in the shop for help, but he
couldn’t get enough leverage either.
I went out to give Kathy back her pump so she didn’t have to wait any
longer. I could tell she was worried
about me, not for the mechanical part, but for the weather and the simple fact
of being a solo young lady out on the road. She had a daughter who was a teacher, probably around the
same age as me and I’m sure it made her take my situation more to heart. She had written her phone number on a
piece of paper and told me I was welcome to stay at her house to wait out the
storm, or even stay the night. She
also offered to help me out on the road in case I had any other further
problems on my way to Helena.
Kathy was so nice. She
asked if I had money for lunch.
When I assured her that I did, she wanted to know if I had enough money
for my trip! Kathy had already
been a huge help, probably the only resident of Townsend to the bike pump.
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| Erik played a key in helping with the final touches of getting my bike back out on the road! |
I went back to my bike and by then Erik, the strong guy, had
managed to get the brake cable back in, using a wrench, no less! He also had a little tiny adapter in
his fingers, he’d found it rummaging though his tool box while I was talking
with Kathy. It looked different
than the one I thought I had packed away, but wouldn’t you know it fit
perfectly? We made a fair trade; I gave him the adapter I had bought and in
return he gave me the small adapter.
It was a done deal! An hour
and a half after I rolled up to the gas station, my wheels were changed, brakes
on and adjusted, and I was ready to pedal again…..except for the fact that
buckets of water were still pouring down. I decided to enter the supply store
attached to the gas station and wait out the storm a little while longer.
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Hey, I'm happy hanging out anywhere, even next to the ammo and guns!
|
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| This one is for me, the "Muddy Girl" model..... |
What is a supply store anyway you might ask? I had no
idea! It has everything from
livestock feed to Coca Cola, groceries, coffee, women’s clothing and hunting
apparel, postcards and tourist knit knacks to guns and ammunition, and ham and
cheese sandwiches, which, YES, I avoided!
I got a coffee and ate some of the food I already had, hanging out by
the only empty counter in the whole store, the gun cabinet no less! I’ve been in bait and tackle stores
before for pit stops and sat next to crickets used for bait, so chilling by the
guns locked away didn’t even phase me.
In fact I was intrigued to read the names of the different models while
I waited for the rain to let up.
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| There's my mountain supply store and it aftermath of the rain storm left a lake in front of the place |
After another 30 minutes the storm dissipated and I could
see sunshine in the direction of Helena.
I got back on my bike and started pedaling, engrossed once again by my
audio book. I had anticipated a
30-minute pit stop to change my tire and eat, but now, almost 2 hours. What an ordeal!!! If I only would have
taken John up on his offer to keep his gas station adapter!
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| The rest of the afternoon was gorgeous with peaceful farms dotting the countryside |
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| By the time I arrived to the capital, I was hot! |
Three hours later I arrived at my warmshowers host, another
John. He listened to my story
about the bike pump, tires, and brakes and then commented, “Gee, that is funny,
my bike has a brake release you pop out by the handle bar!” My head dropped slightly along with my
bottom jaw. I starred at him in
disbelief. That was it! I had forgotten to open the brake
release on the handle bars. How
could I have forgotten? I was so
preoccupied with the tires and bike pump, I had forgotten all about the brake
release……. I shook my head laughing, thinking, only you Melissa! My day had unfolded exactly as my dream
had foreshadowed, or rather nightmare I should say.
What should I dream about next?.......I’m afraid to even
ask.
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| Ice cream at the end of the day makes for a happy ending to any story! |
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